


as the clouds roll by we'll sing the song of the sea

by viveriveniversumvivusvici55



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: Asexual Character, F/M, Getting Together, Mythology - Freeform, People don’t have to look perfect to look beautiful, Selkies, Stardew Valley is a magical place, no beta we die like men, there should be mermaids, why aren’t there mermaids concernedape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-10
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:21:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24640771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viveriveniversumvivusvici55/pseuds/viveriveniversumvivusvici55
Summary: Shane’s mother always told him to watch out for the humans, and when he walked among them to always keep an eye on his skin.As he watches a beautiful human so uncomfortable in her own, he wonders what it would be like.
Relationships: Shane/Female Player (Stardew Valley), Shane/Player (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89





	as the clouds roll by we'll sing the song of the sea

**Author's Note:**

> Yet another fic that I started at work and am finally finishing here. It's not perfect, but there it is.
> 
> Title from Nolwenn Leroy's _Song of the Sea,_ which is featured in the movie Song of the Sea, aka a wonderful animated movie about selkies.

There is someone new fishing off the dock.

It’s not Willy - the man has a strict schedule for when he likes to fish, as much as he lets the ocean and weather speak for his timetable. Shane knows that timetable well. It’s the only time he comes up to the dock because when Willy is in town, the man throws any fish he doesn’t want back into the ocean and it makes for easy pickings. Sometimes Willy even sees him and throws them directly to him, out of pity, perhaps.

But this is something with an old bamboo rod and no real bait to speak of.

Nope, definitely not Willy. Willy would know better and have _much_ better equipment.

Shane peers slightly through the water, hidden as he is under the dock. He does prefer to hide from humans. At this point, all they would see is a seal, but it is the principle of the thing. That lesson had been drilled into his head over and over when he was a child - _stay away from the humans, even when you're in your skin -_ and he knows his lessons well. Through the blurriness of the water, he sees a pair of work boots, covered in dirt, dangling off the side on a pair of short legs. He spends enough time huddled around this beach to know that this is no one he recognizes. Someone new to town.

Ugh. Someone else that he has to learn their routine.

The line catches a sardine, and they pull it up without a single ounce of skill, struggling against the line for some time before hauling it up with a cry of triumph. It's a feminine voice, he thinks - someone new to town who doesn't know how to fish, clearly trying to learn how to.

This time, he doesn't steal a fish off of this new person's line. No, they are finding the whole process difficult enough. He catches ones that come towards her dangling hook, and all the while, he tries to catch what glimpses he can besides those boots. There's not much - only what looks like knobby knees - and eventually they get up from the dock with a small pile of fish. One sardine slips off into the water and he snaps it up gladly.

He faintly hears Willy's gruff voice at that. "Ah, there are plenty of seals around here. They'll be glad to take your leftovers, miss."

Shane smirks under the water, as much as a seal's muzzle can smirk. Oh, yes. Plenty of seals here indeed.

\---

Truth be told, while there is a substantial pod of selkies that live in the bay near Stardew Valley, not many of them come to the shore, never mind the dock. No, that is Shane's spot. It provides him with an excellent break from his family when he needs it. Besides, it gives him food and plenty of opportunity to watch the humans in this community. They all have their routines that they keep to and that stability is oddly comforting. He knows when Alex will come on the beach to throw his gridball around, when Elliot and Leah comes out to watch the sea and get their inspiration, when Sam takes Vincent out to swim. And he knows when to avoid them. He doesn't want to spend time with them, as lovely as it looks. It's really best for everyone that he stay away.

But this new person...she doesn't have a routine and it throws him off. Some days she doesn't come to the beach at all, sometimes she only comes to forage precious shells that have been washed ashore, sometimes those boots spend hours hanging over the side of the dock reeling in bite after bite. All that time, though, and he never gets a good look at her until one rainy spring day. He swims up from the ocean to see her already there. She's wrapped in a bright yellow mackintosh (probably borrowed from Willy, if he was to hazard a guess), a tiny head under the enormous hood, and her fishing pole gripped tightly in her hands. She's shivering, the water pouring off of her and puddling by her legs, dripping between the slats of the dock. Finally, she climbs up, setting the pole down, and ducks under the safety of Willy's roof. She pulls back the hood and shakes the water off of herself. And Shane's wide eyes stare at her because

_Poseidon, she's beautiful._

She's small and lean, almost fragile looking under the loose baggy clothes. She's bald, with big brown eyes and ears that stick out, sharp cheekbones, and pale skin. She's not beautiful in a mermaid way or even in a selkie way - too knobby, too frail - and not even in what he thinks is the human way. No, she's enticing in an almost normal way, the kind that makes him want to talk to her, that makes him think he might actually have a chance, if he was normal. 

He bobs slightly above the water, unable to stop staring at this stranger.

She is staring out to sea, squinting into the rain as she watches the clouds. As the rain slows, just slightly, she looks down to the water and her eyes meet his. Shane holds her gaze for a moment, close as he is, and he feels a shiver run down his spine. It's too long, longer than a seal should, and with that realization, he ducks down in a panic. Then he remembers that he looks like a seal, she wouldn’t know what he is, and now, he probably just made himself look even stranger. But he had to leave. 

When he's thinking about it later, about why he was so unsettled looking at her, it finally hits him. Her eyes looked...empty.

It felt like he was looking at his own reflection.

\---

Selkies stay far away from humans. That is how it is supposed to be. Marnie says that humans are, at heart, a good people, but they have to work to be good and that is difficult with things that are different. It is possible for a selkie and a human to become friends, she says, but it is more likely that humans would try to hunt them. The folk tales hold strong - when a selkie and a human meet, it never ends well. Granted, Marnie also says that Shane is supposed to be happy all of the time with his pod, even with the loss of his brother and sister-in-law, so he takes those words with a grain of salt. 

This woman, at least, doesn't seem harmful. She has taken over the abandoned farm on the west side of town, the one with rivers running through it. Shane swims upstream to it one day, round belly skimming against the stones. The fresh water isn't exactly to his liking, but it provides a good view as he watches her work. There are animals on the land now - chickens that wander through the glass, clucking away - and she kneels in the dirt, planting seeds and watering. Marnie told him once that an old man used to live here. Perhaps this is one of his descendants. At least she has good taste in what she fills the farm with. He likes the clucking chickens. 

After weeks of watching, he learns her name. Willy greets her one day in the summer as she strides up to him, her boots thunking on the wood.

"How are you doing, Clarice?"

 _Clarice._ It’s a good name. Shane likes it. 

She waves at him slightly. There is no real expression on her face - which is more than a little unsettling - but there's a little more light in her eyes. He's close enough to see that. All the work that she's been doing at the farm is doing her some good and Willy's eyes raking over her seem to agree with Shane.

"Alright," she replies. "Going to try and get a tuna."

Her voice is soft, like a whispering wind, and Shane sighs to himself. Then the words register to him.

"A tuna, huh?" Willy smiles. "Well, you might need a better fishing rod for that. Those suckers love bait and your rod isn’t good for it."

Shane, for the first time in a while, sets himself to a goal. He swims out to look for tuna. Normally, he wouldn't invest the effort into trying to get these fast fish, but something in him wants to make her smile, so he chases after the first ones he sees and fiercely herds them toward the dock. (He's a seal, not a sheepdog, but he's trying his best.)

When he comes back, Clarice is already perched on the edge of the dock, boots dangling. After pulling up some seaweed, she rebaits the hook and throws down her line. Shane veers back to avoid scaring the fish anymore, willing one to land on her hook, and one finally takes the bait. Shane is panting as he pops above water, watching her pull up the fish with renewed strength, but her shout of delight and grin make it all worth it. Willy cheers for her too, clapping proudly.

_Nicely done, Clarice the human._

When she catches another, she sets it free, sending it directly towards Shane. "Thank you," she says in her soft voice, eyes locked on him. There is affection in the gaze, subtle as it is, and it snares Shane like a fishing net.

In the future, when he looks back on that memory, that's the moment he fell for her.

\--

Finally, he gets the courage to go meet her. He gets up early one morning, barely before the sunrise, and made his way to the beach. The sealskin splits, as it does, and he steps out of it. It isn't a graceful process - his body is big, both as a seal and as a human. He's tall and carries a lot of fat on him, and he’s never been flexible. He curls his precious seal skin under his arm, and finds a set of clothes that he had stashed in one of the old barrels. Shorts, a t-shirt and hoodie. The shirt doesn’t fit quite as well as it used to, rising up over his hairy belly, but the hoodie covers a multitude of sins.

He waits, hiding under a tree near the shoreline, and finally...Clarice comes, fishing rod at the ready. Shane patiently waits for her to get settled on the dock before he comes over. He's wobbly on two legs, but he makes his way over without too much trouble. He doesn't talk to her, but he sits on the dock nearby. 

She is the one to start the conversation. "Beautiful, isn't it?" Her eyes are out to the sea.

He huffs an affirmative, putting the words together carefully. "It is. Deadly too."

Her turn to nod. "You come here often?"

"When I can." _All the time, but you won't believe me when I say that_ _._

Clarice turns her head towards him. Up close, he sees the softness of her skin, the faint freckles across her nose, the strength in her arms, the bandages around her hands. She's taken off her work boots and socks, her bare little feet swaying in the air, and her shorts ride up to show a tan line across her legs. Her expression is still, but her eyes are soft as she inclines her head in a nod. "Clarice."

"Shane." They don’t shake hands like he’s seen humans do – she doesn’t let go of her rod – but she nods to him, eyes smiling slightly, and he thinks that it’s nice to meet her anyway. "Have you lived here long?" 

(Like I don't know the answer.)

"Only a couple months," she replies softly, "I moved here from the city. It's been wonderful here." 

Ah, the city that he's seen in the distance. "I've never been."

"It's better here," her mouth twitches to the side in a silent laugh.

They sit in relative quiet, filling the silence with small talk. Shane quickly learns that Clarice loves fairy tales and stories, and she loves learning about everything. Somehow, his fascination with Marnie’s stories pays off and they end up spending hours just talking about them, only pausing when she has to haul up a fish. They talk until the sun goes down, the air getting sharper with the cold, and Clarice shivers, rubbing her bare arms. Little bumps bloom on the skin and Shane tries not to stare in fascination as he helps her fill a bucket with her fish.

"Will you be around tomorrow?" Clarice asks him softly. There is hope in her eyes and Shane can only nod, caught a little off guard by it. There is a small, earnest smile on her face as she inclines her chin. "Farewell, Shane."

He waits until it is dark and the beach is well and truly empty until he strips out of the human clothes and climbs back into his skin. Marnie is, of course, worried that he stayed out so late, but he manages to rebuff her questions for now. All he can think about is going back.

They meet more often after that, Shane sometimes even waiting for her on the dock until she comes. He doesn't talk to anyone else. He's only here for Clarice. He even thinks that she notices his gruffness when anyone else tries to talk to him, but she never pushes him on it. She doesn't talk about her life before coming to the valley, but he can tell it was rough. She does tell him about her therapist, about the slow work she is doing to feel like a whole person again, how it’s still hard for her to be emotional and discuss these things. He tells her about Marnie and Jas, how much he loves them and how he feels like a disappointment. Without the selkie details, of course, but she nods in understanding. She presses her shoulder against his in a soft sign of cameraderie, letting the touch linger for a while until she can't stand it anymore.

He can feel the warmth for hours, the rounded shape of her bony shoulder. 

Marnie doesn't commend on his dopey smile.

\--

She’s at a different spot on the docks today, in the height of summer. She rebuilt the bridge that spans the river and he walks across it carefully, following her to the pier.

“What are you looking for?” He calls over.

“Just trying a new spot. I heard there were some big fish here.” She is sitting cross-legged, staring intently into the water. 

After an hour of trying, a fish catches the hook and nearly pulls her into the ocean. With a scramble, he has to help her haul it in. She’s so tiny, the first hard tug nearly rips the rod out of her hands, the second nearly takes her with it. For once, he is glad for his weight as he anchors her in place, hands around her waist to keep her still. It’s still her catch, and when the enormous carp flops onto the deck, she lets out a whoop of triumph.

He is in _awe_ of her.

They fish for a while longer. Shane even accepts her offer of lunch and watches the rod while she builds a small fire and cooks some of her freshly caught fish. It tastes different cooked, all smoky and charred, but he thinks that he could grow to like it. Nothing as grand as that crimsonfish, but she has a tidy haul. 

"What do you even do with all the fish?" He asks her, eyes wide.

"Some of it I sell," she explains, "some I cook for myself, and some I cook for others. There's someone in town who will actually come out of his house and find me just for my sashimi."

Shane smiles at that, but jealousy pulls at his chest all the same. "You don't give me any gifts."

"What would you like?" Her eyebrow raises, smiling with both sides of her mouth this time. That alone feels like a perfect gift, but he can't just _say that._

Shane is about to answer her with some description of the human food that looks interesting when he sees the barrels at the side of the beach toppled over. Fear clutches at his throat and he rushes over to check them. He tears through all of them and the fear turns into bone-deep horror as the realization sinks in.

His skin is gone.

_His skin is **gone.**_

_I'm stuck, I'm stuck, I'm stuck, this is just like Marnie said, why didn't I listen to her, it's GONE-_

"Shane. Breathe with me."

Shane's eyes come back into focus to see Clarice kneeling in front of him - when had he fallen to the sand? - with a concerned expression. Her fishing gear is set to the side and she gently takes one of his clenched fists, resting it against her chest. 

"Breathe with me."

It's work, trying matching her breaths until he can get himself under control, but with her coaching, Shane slowly calms himself down enough to think. When he is no longer trembling in panic, she asks softly, "What is it?"

"My-" he catches himself, "my blanket. It's gone."

Clarice knows what he means. When it gets colder, he brings it out to drape around his shoulders and he kept it beside him until he started to trust her more. Then he kept it in the barrel where he thought it would be safe. _Idiot._

"It was here last?" Her voice draws him out of his thoughts.

He nods, pointing to the barrel in question.

“Then we look for it.” She sticks her fishing tackle and rod in the sand and rolls up her sleeves. “I’ll help.” She is a rock for him to lean on as they comb the beach. Every time he feels his thoughs start to run away with him, he sees her steady expression, her hands combing through the branch and trees, under the dock, anywhere that the wind might taken it, and it soothes him a little. Clarice is a friend. She'll help him. 

Predictably, it's Clarice who finds the footprints leading away from the beach. The dread wraps itself around his chest again as Shane realizes that someone _took it._ Clarice frowns, following the footprints with her eyes, and she lets out a huff of anger. "I know where it is."

"You do?" The relief in his voice is palpable.

"I do. Now we just need to get it back." She takes Shane's hand in hers, squeezing it firmly, and she strides away from the beach. He follows quickly, not sure where she is going, and they take a right after the bridge. There are a few buildings on this side of the river, but her eyes are riveted on the one closest to the ocean. Shane is still scared, but there is something intent in her face, like she knows what happened and nothing will stop her from getting it back.

She shoves the door open firmly, holding the door open, as she calls with more firmness than he has ever heard her use, " _Gunther_!" 

"Clarice, you won't believe what I found at the beach, it's an intact sealskin!"

And there, being mounted - is his skin. He goes white. He feels his knees go weak, and he clutches at Clarice’s arm. No doubt he should be feeling fury, rage at the humans for doing this, but all he can feel the deep and encompassing terror of a myth coming true. That he will be stuck here, for the rest of his life, unless he can get that sealskin down. He turns quickly to look at Clarice, waiting to see her reaction, and the terror ebbs a little at the sight because Clarice is _furious_. Cold fury - it reminds him of whitecaps during a storm. She gestures for him to wait outside the museum and she stalks up to the counter. Shane can’t see or hear anything through the door, bobbing anxiously on his feet. Perhaps she’ll hear how much it’s worth and let the man keep it. Perhaps she’ll recognize it what it means and yell at him.

_No, she doesn’t know what it means. She wouldn’t still be talking to you if she knew._

Then the door opens and the skin is soon back in his hands. He cradles it close, gasps with relief. She doesn't touch him again, and he feels himself leaning away from her anyway.

She says softly, "I'm sorry it was taken from you. I can't imagine how frightening it must be."

"No, you can't," he snaps, fingers knotting in it. _You’re human, you don’t know what I am, you don’t understand._

"I read." Her voice is soft. "More than enough stories of trapped women made to marry the thieves."

That slowly sinks in. _She knows._ He stares at her. Her eyes are off towards the sea, her hands in her pockets. She looks so nonchalant it almost feels fake. Perhaps she is emphasizing it, to make him feel more comfortable, but the emotion is real. She doesn’t care. She’s amazed, but not upset.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she says softly.

“If…” he guesses that there’s a caveat.

“If you don’t want me to,” she says. “That’s the only if. No conditions. Nothing.”

He stares. “Why? Doesn’t it bother you?”

“No, it’s amazing,” her voice is soft, wondrous, even. “And it’s because you’re my friend.”

_Oh._

And he falls for her even harder.

\--

On the first day of fall, Shane pops up by the dock to say hello. He looks forward to every visit with Clarice now, and he thinks she looks forward to it as well - her eyes light up when she recognizes the spotty pattern that marks him as him. This time, though, Clarice is pausing from fishing. Her bucket is full of fish, and she is watching another seal while a little girl plays with her hair.

_Marnie and Jas._

Of course they would find out eventually. Marnie finally managed to pry out the knowledge that Shane had been meeting someone at the shore. They must have come to meet him. 

Shane circles around the shore to give them space, shifts out of his skin, and walks up in the stored pair of shorts. His skin is held firmly in his hand - he's never leaving it alone again - and he knocks a familiar pattern onto one of the dockposts.

“UNCLE SHANE!” Jas calls, letting go of a braid to wave at him.

Marnie turns to look at him from the waves, expression not quite disapproving for all of the happiness in it, and Clarice doesn’t turn. No, that would stop the mess of braids that Jas has put into her fringe, and the flowers woven into it as well. Shane’s heart is so full that it almost aches. All of his favourite people in one place...how did he get so lucky?

“Hey, pup,” he says softly, sitting down on Jas's opposite side. Marnie’s eyes widen, because Shane hasn’t called her pup in years, and Jas looks so delighted that it hurts. He really had fallen behind on caring for her, hadn’t he?

“Aunt Marnie said we had to come see your friend,” Jas explains as she ties off the braids, “but she’s real nice for a human!”

Shane winces at the brazen revelation, but Clarice nods as soon as her head is available to move. He asks her, “Tell me you didn’t get a lecture?”

“Only a short one. Reading the myths helps with context,” Clarice shrugs slightly, "and it appears shovel talks cross all cultures."

He goes beet red at that and Jas giggles.

\--

On the first day of fall, Shane pops up by the dock to say hello. He looks forward to every visit with Clarice now, and he thinks she looks forward to it as well - her eyes light up when she recognizes the spotty pattern that marks him as him. This time, though, Clarice is pausing from fishing. There's not even a fishing pole. Instead, she pulls off her clothes to reveal a wetsuit and pulls a set of goggles out of her bag. “Let me see what you see?”

_Oh, he loves her so much._

He plops into the water, seal skin already on, and she tucks her clothes into a barrel. Then in she pulls her goggles on and steps off the dock, plunging into the water. When her head comes up, she lets out a gasping breath, hissing with the cold, even through the wetsuit. He is glad that she’s smart and wearing that. It should keep her warm for however long they stay. He gestures with a flipper for her to follow him underwater and, with a heavy exhale and inhale, she dives down with him.

She swims after him for a while, legs beating together in a dolphin kick, arms pulling in front of her to drag herself along. She’s not fast enough to really keep up with him, but there is a smile on her face as she holds her breath. He does tricks, desperate to impress her, flips and rolls, diving down out of sight and popping up in front of her when she has to come up for air. She laughs every time, eyes sparkling behind the plastic, and it is so rewarding.

Then he offers to let her hang on. She does, carefully, finding a spot to wrap her arms around him, and they go for a swim. She slaps his side a few times when she needs to breathe, and then they repeat. It’s wonderful. It’s the most fun he’s had in ages. They swim through kelp, they find the more exotic fish, and she hangs on tight as he gathers enough force to jump above the water and breach.

She whoops when they soar through the air.

He brings her back to the dock when the sun is starting to set. She’s cold, wrapping herself up in a towel and clothes, and he climbs up as a human shortly after. He drapes his pants across his lap for modesty, and when Clarice still doesn’t stop shivering, he ever so carefully wraps his skin around her shoulders for more warmth. Her eyes widen, and even if she doesn’t understand exactly what it means, she can guess the significance. Wrapping her up in his most precious possession, the thing that helped him live…

“Thank you.” She leans over and he expects the shoulder bumps that he has grown accustomed to. But…she presses a kiss to his cheek. It’s light, right on top of the stubble on his cheekbone, but she lets it linger for a few seconds.

He falls back on the dock in dazed delight. She beams at him, her eyes sparkling and her cheeks a little pink in the setting sun. Then the doubt starts to set in and he looks at her in confusion. “I…I don’t understand.”

Her expression goes soft and she offers him her hand. He takes it and pulls himself back up, but she doesn’t let go of it. She raises it to her mouth and presses a kiss to the knuckles, her eyes on him. It is not quite in her to say the words – he knows that emotion is a tricky beast for her – but she hums softly. There’s a tune to it, and it doesn’t take him long to recognize it.

_My heart is pierced by Cupid  
_ _I disdain all glittering gold  
_ _There is nothing can console me  
_ _But my jolly sailor bold._

“Oh,” his cheeks go red, and he feels a distinct urge to fall into the ocean and run away, or spin in a circle. “…I’m not a sailor.”

 _I'm not the handsome pretty sailor in that story,_ his eyes say.

Her eyebrow raises as she smiles. “My jolly selkie bold, then." The warmth in her eyes reassures him a little bit as they seem to say _I like you as you are._

Shane's cheeks go red. "I...I could be that."

They lace their fingers together, squeezing them on her lap, and they watch the sun setting across the ocean.

Even as the day ends...it feels like a beginning.


End file.
